


What Little I Can Share

by dogtit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:45:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogtit/pseuds/dogtit
Summary: “I. Trust.No one.”“What an awful way to live,” Mei replied.





	What Little I Can Share

**Author's Note:**

> taken from a prompt meme off of tumblr!

Widowmaker was a light sleeper. She prided herself on this, on the ability to remain aware and vigilant even as her body rested and recovered from a mission. Still, even her diligence had its limits, and even her biological perfection could be tested in the right conditions. 

She could not feel the cold. That did not mean it did not exist at all for her and that her body would not, eventually, succumb to exposure, just that it took much, much longer than the average human being.

It had been several long weeks in the arctic, hunting down old clues and safehouses with Mei-Ling Zhou as company. It was a test of her newfound (and, frankly flimsy) rapport with the reformed Overwatch. Mei was, predictably, her escort and babysitter; the other woman was in her element, as it were, and should Widowmaker pose a problem–well, even she would find it hard to survive out in the tundra.

Power in rediscovered safehouses had to be conserved to only the very basic life support systems, and it did not always include heat. Though Widowmaker did not need to shiver, curled in a tight ball beneath the blankets as she was, even she was starting to miss…something. Companionship, maybe. Warmth.

 She jumped minutely as she felt the mattress dip beneath the soft weight of another. The blanket was lifted and a body smuggled itself beneath it. Against the open back of her suit, Widowmaker felt bare, soft,  _warm_ skin, plush and malleable, press itself against her as two arms wound around her waist. 

She could feel Mei-Ling’s breath stir the little hairs at the nape of her neck. Several heartbeats passed between them before Widowmaker managed to croak, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

She heard the scientist squeak, but stubbornly, those arms tightened. “It is the best way to conserve and share body heat. You need it.” 

“That’s a myth and you know it,” Widowmaker drawled, her own arms folded across her chest. 

“Angela told me that it works!” 

“For patients with hypothermia, perhaps. You will be shocked to discover that my natural core temperature  _AIII_ –”

She jerked and kicked back like a startled horse as Mei pressed her lips against the spider carved in ink on her spine and let loose an obnoxiously loud raspberry. It tickled, it was wet and warm, and Widowmaker could not stand it. 

“Just–stay still,” Mei argued, her voice gentle and firm as Widowmaker twisted around to bare her teeth in her face like a coiled snake. “Trust me.” 

“I. Trust.  _No one_.” 

“What an awful way to live,” Mei replied. “You’re exhausted.” 

“I am not–” Widowmaker studiously kept her eyes up, not daring to look below the rounded curve of Mei’s chin but unable to meet her in the eyes. It left her gaze somewhat focused on her lips–chapped and dry and warm–and her skin itched as blood raced below the surface. 

“It has to be exhausting to keep everyone and everything so far, far away. So lonely…” Mei’s voice carried in it an ache that bordered on familiar. “I couldn’t…I can’t imagine…being so alone like that, by choice, not again…” 

Widowmaker sighed through her nose. If her arms were free, she would have pinched the bridge. As it was, her forearms were squashed in Mei’s cleavage which she was  _ignoring, thank you very much._  “…I am moving the blanket.” 

Mei’s eyes lit up as she laxed her hold just enough for Widowmaker to free an arm and tugged the rumpled sheet back over the both of them. The woman wiggled closer, and her warmth was almost suffocating but–it was pleasant.  


End file.
